


It's the Same Every Night

by Ren the Ripper (MrsRen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble Me This Challenge, F/M, Inappropriate use of the force bond, Inspired by a solarfugue artwork, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/Ren%20the%20Ripper
Summary: It's the same every night. They know they shouldn't hold on, but they know they can't let go.





	It's the Same Every Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Drabble Me This challenge on 1/14 in the Facebook group Reylo Fanfic Recs. It’s inspired by an artwork by solarfugue, which is NSFW and also ridiculously hot.
> 
> If you enjoy, comments make my day.

 

 

 

Since Crait, the nights are often the same.

 

They’re unable to keep one another out of their heads, but the longer it wears on, the more Rey realizes she doesn’t want to let go. 

 

An addiction, that’s what it is. 

 

She’s addicted to the feel of him, his hard chest pressed against her as he thrusts into her, the way large hands grip her much small waist as he lifts her and fills her. It’s a heady feeling, she realizes, that the Supreme Leader of the other side - the side she is supposed to loathe, supposed to cut down to make way for a brighter future - is  _ hers _ . 

 

She’s mentioned it before that it isn’t right. She’d given him the chance; she still clung to the belief that eventually, he would turn. It hadn’t happened yet. 

 

Outside of dreams they were at opposite ends, all too eager to draw weapons against the other in the midst of battle. Rey knows from the times she’d mistakenly slipped inside his head that General Hux doesn’t want Kylo Ren fighting with her. The man has seen something he’s not meant to, and he knows the girl will be his downfall. 

 

“You shouldn’t be here.” she says weakly. Her legs are tucked beneath her, and the sheets are rumpled. She’s said it before, she’ll say it again, but this will never change. 

 

He lays his lightsaber on the dresser beside hers, an imagery that shows how far they’ve fallen. Ren peels the leather gloves from his hands, leaving them discarded in the floor. “Yet here I am.” he rasps. He circles her, coming around the bed and slowly brushing a lock of hair that has slipped from her buns off of her shoulder. “You don’t want me to leave.” He murmurs, tilting her head up by her chin. “Do you?” His gaze is dark as he takes her in, his stare dropping to the swell of her breasts pressed against her thin top. 

 

Rey is silent, sliding off of the bed. The right thing to do is to call to her lightsaber, to do something other than giving into carnal desires. She does no such thing as the heat of his chest is pressed to her back, and his hands wander. A small whimper escapes her when calloused fingers brush her nipple. 

 

“If you wanted me to leave - if you didn’t want this --” he murmurs, pinching the sensitive peak -- “you wouldn’t be without a bra.” Kylo whispers in her ear. “You’re always so ready for me, Rey. I’m not sure why you want to fight it You’re mine.” 

 

She spins on her heel, eyes narrowing, but she doesn’t get far. Rey is pinned to the wall, her arms raised over her head and he grips her wrists in one hand. “I can’t be owned.” she hisses. She could get away if she wanted; he would never force her, but this is half of the game. 

 

Anticipation. Faux denial to make themselves feel better for crossing the line. They do it every night. Rey knows he doesn’t fucking care about rights and wrongs. He wants her, and he would burn the galaxy to have her. 

 

“Who do you belong to, Rey?” he asks. 

 

She swallows. “You,” Rey agrees. Her legs part as a hand slides down her belly. “I want you.” she whispers, wiggling against his grip. 

 

It’s the only time he smiles, though it’s more of a smirk. “You killed one of my stormtroopers today.” he chastises, dipping his head to press his lips to the hollow of her throat. 

 

She doesn’t want to talk about battles, death, or sides. Even so -- “I’m not sorry.” she says, and one finger sinks inside of her. 

 

“I know you’re not.” he replies, another finger entering her. “You were thinking of me before I came, weren’t you? You’re dripping, Rey.” 

 

“Please,” she whimpers. 

 

He doesn’t ask what she wants; he never has and instead, he delves into her mind. During the stolen moments, during the nights, she was bared to him in every sense of the word. Any other time, she kept him out, a valuable skill he had taught her. 

 

Ren sees what she wants -- to be sitting in the chair in her small room, her legs parted with one over the armrest and one over his broad shoulder, to have his mouth in between her legs. 

 

He growls against her neck, and he obliges. 

 

The chair isn’t comfortable as he tears her trousers off of her. In the silence, he tells her in low tones how she has the prettiest cunt, how she tastes sublime, and she’s still unprepared. She grips the armrests, biting down on her bottom lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. She cannot cry out, she’s unable to shriek his name as his tongue dips between her folds. 

 

Two fingers pump into her, curling inside of her as he traces her clit with his tongue, rolling his tongue to make her shudder. 

 

Rey whimpers. “Please,” she cries softly, muffling her voice with the back of her hand. She rocks against him, her eyes wide open as he watches her. 

 

She’s seen it, the way he’s thinking of her during First Order meetings, how he would prefer to have her tight cunt wrapped around his cock. 

 

“I want you to come for me, sweetheart,” he growls, and then there are no more words. 

 

Rey writhes below him as the time for teasing passes. His movements are quick, tailored to exactly what she likes and it takes little time at all for her body to shudder beneath him. “Ben --” she gasps quietly. 

 

He’s wide-eyed as he looks to her, an emotion crossing his face she does not dare name. It’s the same reaction he has every time to his given name, the awe that she has not given up on him yet. 

 

It’s the name she whispers urgently when he sinks into her, her legs over his shoulders. 

 

It’s the same every night. 


End file.
